Origin of Wolverine
by XEVOGIRL
Summary: The true story of Logan - the story of his past, and how tragic events helped shape him into the warrior we know today: The Wolverine
1. Author's Note

Disclaimer: Not in any way do I own any X-Men characters or their pasts. I do not own this original story or the script I use.

**Origin of Wolverine: Author's Note **

Hey all of you X-Men fans out there! It's me XEVOGIRL and I'm here to start up a new story that I'm sure you'll all enjoy!

As you can probably tell, I seem more like a romance writer: 'True Love' and 'Soccer Boy', but in reality, the types of novels I enjoy writing the most are more on the suspenseful side… My favorite X-Men character of all time has been Logan because of his fearlessness and somewhat mystery that shades his past… so I decided to write something.

A few years ago, I read and awesome graphic novel called 'ORIGIN' that explained in detail wolverine's younger years and the events that shaped him into the person he would become. I found it a very moving tale, and I wondered how it would be to write that tale in a descriptive form. It turned out to be very fun and successful – and write now I'm up to chapter 7 – which is a lot for me.

**I have decided to share Wolverine's past with you – but keep in mind that this is not my story. Every word that is uttered in this tale is strictly owned and created by Marvel Comics. I have just taken the script and transferred it into writing using my own creative style, which I hope you will enjoy. **

Wolverine's past is not fun and dandy; it is a tragedy story that describes the events that shape our hero's personality. All the events that happen in this story have actually happened in Wolverine's past.

Enjoy Reading – I will enjoy feedback from all of you, it tells me you actually care about this story and want to hear more…

Love from: XEVOGIRL

PS. I'm am still writing chapters for 'True Love', so don't lose all hope!


	2. Prologue

Disclaimer: Not in any way do I own any X-Men characters or their pasts. I do not own this original story or the script I use.

Hey Guys: Remember that:

_Italics mean writing (in a diary) _

CAPITALS mean shouting

Normal means… normal (lol) speech or description

**Origin of Wolverine: Prologue**

**"**They say it was built on a foundation of tears," The old man remarked as he gazed upon the rolling landscape. It was beautiful, yes; but the land held icy secrets that one would never know. 1896 was the year that the 'Howlett Estate' appeared finally atop the sparkling hill. A grand place it was; hand made by the finest craftsmen and architects the land of Canada could offer. No one would ever think that such a wonderful place could hold such a terrible future.

As the old man steered the horse and buggy up the dirt road, he glanced back at his only passenger. It was a small girl, he guessed she wasn't older than 13. She looked at him with a bank stare, as if she wanted to hear more of what he had to say. She wore a fine white dress and a fancy wicker hat that concealed her long, red hair. The man had to admit, the girl had stunning features for a young child.

"Aye… A right terrible tragedy it was," he continued. He told the same story every time he brought a new pupil up to the Estate. And every time, it sent chills up and down his old spine retelling the tale.

"Just after the place was built, the elder boy took ill all of a sudden an' died," he sighed as he guided the horses through the huge, European crafted front archway. "They buried 'im here on the grounds. That was such a desperate sad day for everyone."

He peered back one more time and saw the girl's green eyes widen in surprise.

"Oh, that must've been so awful, Mister Kenneth…"

"It was at that, young Rose," Kenneth replied to her, thinking what a nice name for a girl her name was. It fit her well, for she had skin soft as a rose, and her hair was red and silky and a rose could be.

"Course, we don't talk about it much up on the hill," he leaned back towards Rose and lowered his voice. "Poor Mrs. Howlett was sent away to the madhouse, so they say. After she came back, things was never the same."

Rose nodded and turned her head, gazing at the Howlett Estate; lost in her own thoughts. She remained silent for a few moments as the buggy made it's way around the stables and groundskeeper's shack. Finally she spoke up:

"An' is it true about the old man? Is he as bad as they say down in the village?"

"Mmm. You'll never hear me say this, mind… But if ya'ask me, the old man's one to be avoided. He ain't like his son." Kenneth lowered his gaze. "Self-made millionaire… made a fortune in copper ore. But a miserable blighter when it comes to anyone of our station."

Rose understood what he was saying. She despised people like that; the ones that considered themselves part of the 'greats' just because they had a few extra dollars. Her eyes were then drawn to a grubby looking man, working in the dirt. He had a frown on, drooping his face.

"Young Master John's a good man, but he an' 'is father don't abide eachother," Kenneth continued, taking Rose's attention away from the groundskeeper working in the bush. "There's a lot of sadness up here… That's how it's been ever since the tragedy."

Kenneth's face darkened and he lowered his voice once more. "If y'ask me, girl, this place is bloody bad luck."

Rose didn't reply to that remark, but just turned away to see the grubby man working. He looked up and their eyes met for a split second, but Rose quickly snapped her head back. She didn't like that man one bit.

There was an awkward silence that disturbed Kenneth, so he decided to ask some of his own questions: "So, what brings you up from the villiage, young Rose?"

The question saddened the girls, she let out a deep sigh and said quietly; "My parents, sir… It was the influenza, what took 'em both. I ain't got nobody no more."

Mister Kenneth nodded and pried no more. He knew what it was like to lose a family member so young…. He was quite surprised when Rose continued speaking.

"Mrs. Hopkins knew my auntie down in the village. She thought as how I'd be a good companion for young Master James." Rose's voice lightened a wee bit. "I mean, what with the Mistress taking ill an' him bein' the only child an' all… Honest to god, sir, I'm right scared! They never said what me duties was sapposed to be. I ain't never been around such finery before…"

With that, Kenneth pulled on the reins of the horse to stop. They had arrived at the frount doors of the Howlett Estate. Rose looked up at the huge mansion and her heart began to thump faster. Kenneth jumped out of the carriage.

"An' you won't again, lass… not in your lifetime. There ain't no other place like the Howlett Estate in all of the country."

That just made Rose more nervous. Canada was such a big country with lots of wealthy people… and this place was one of the finest… Rose was intimated.

Kenneth reached into the carriage and grabbed Rose's bags while she climbed carefully out. "Tell me… how old are you, Rose?"

"Twelve, Mister Kenneth." Rose said as she hoped down. He turned away.

"Aye, well…" he could feel her eyes on his back. "If you want to be thirteen, you'll keep yerself to yerself, and do exactly as you're told."

There we go, folks! The prologue for my third story. Like it? Hate it? Tell me about it – let me know your reading it so I'll update!


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